


Vision Drabble

by Blue_Nox



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Vision Needs A Hug, Vision is a mess, Vision is my baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Nox/pseuds/Blue_Nox
Summary: Just a place to dump some Vision drabbles





	1. Brother

"You're afraid," the words where spoken before he could truly stop them. Standing in front of the ripped apart body of the being that could have been his brother. Should have been.  
"Of you?"

"Of death. You're the last one." Death. It was still something so new to him. All beings die; whether they were human or robotic. Death at some point comes to everyone.

"You were supposed to be the last. Stark asked for a savior and settled for a slave."

"I suppose we are both disappointments."

"I suppose we are."

The Vision stood for a brief moment, letting bits of the conversation flow into his mind. Sparks of circuits lighting up and trying to find the best routes to their holding places. His mind was such a brilliant thing; information stored and filed in such a way it would make even the strongest person with OCD jealous. "Humans are odd. They think order and chaos are somehow opposites and... try to control what won't be. But there is grace in their failings. I think you missed that."

"They're doomed."

"Yes. But a thing isn't beautiful because it lasts. It's a privilege to be among them."

"You're unbearably naive."

There was a small smile that crossed his features as those words were spoken. If he ever felt himself to have a brother, Ultron would be he. "Well... I was born yesterday."

There was so much mourning and grief in the days following. Most of them were happy to go about it in their own ways, but what happens to someone that doesn't know how to process death. Deep within the processors of his own mind, he knew that it was something that came to everyone, knew that it was a fact of life. Yet still... this was a different sort of death.

He observes, in the shadows, how the others seem to comfort everyone. A small hand on the shoulder, a hug. Human things. Observed how they offered condolences and heart felt words. In a way, he feels that he shouldn't be selfish about it. At the same time, he wishes that someone would truly ask him how he feels about it. How it felt to stare down, to talk to his brother before the end. He finally tells himself that it is because of what he is that no one really takes him into effect. Being a synthetic being, it's hard enough for them to get past the fear of what he is, let alone have them actually care. He tells himself that hopefully, that one day things will change for the better. That one day they will see him in the same light as they see everyone else. Vision knows that he is different and he knows that fear will always hold everyone back from truly being there for him.

Then there's another part of him that truly wonders why he even cares. He didn't really know Ultron other than the connection they shared. The fact that he was wanting to destroy everything that even in such a short time, Vision had come to enjoy small amounts of where he understood it. He turned to his reading for the most part, trying to absorb all that he could and take his mind off the nagging questions that always seemed to be in the depths. When that didn't work, he'd find himself on the roof of Stark tower, staring out into what seemed to be space itself.

"You seem heavy with thought, robot man."

The God of Thunder didn't move to sit beside him, standing. Without his Asgardian clothes and the hammer in his hand, he seemed less intimidating; not that Vision was intimidated by him at all. "I have noticed, that in the chaos, no one has offered to see if you were handling everything alright." Ah. There it was. He didn't know if Thor was actually taking pity on him or if he was generally curious. Vision thought for a moment before he answered.

"I am coping."

Was it actually a lie? Could he lie? Emotions themselves were something so new to him. Vision didn't know if he had an answer for Thor's question. The two of them sitting in the cooling night air and merely speaking of random things. When the conversation was over and the two of them parted was, Vision felt that a small amount of whatever was weighing down his shoulders had been lifted. It didn't make it seem any less in his mind, but now he had less questions and more answers.

He didn't know if he could have called Ultron a brother.  
Didn't really know the true meaning of family.

But if there was a small amount of hope, he would have liked to have had someone more like him to connect with.  
A brother, no matter how evil their intentions might have been or how good they felt their actions were, was still a brother.

One that had died by his hand.


	2. Unhealthy coping mechanism.

Small...

Stolen...

Moments...

"Vis, you doing alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark," but his voice sounded as if it were a million miles away. "I am coping."

Unhealthy coping mechanism.

Some people would turn to drink in times of great sorrow, whilst others find other means to deal with it. But there are times that a hurt can run so deep that the person merely shuts down; all forms of communication and hide themselves away. There were moments that Vision found himself in the depths of Stark's basement, tinkering with his things. 'Vizh, why don't you stop and come to bed?,' he knew that she wasn't there, hadn't been there for many months, and yet could still here her voice like it was yesterday. Vision would always tell her the same thing. He couldn't, not until everything was finished... not until the work was done. The vision of Wanda in his mind would do nothing more than shrug, walk over to him and he would feel the ghost of her touch against his synthetic skin. 'Just don't stay up to late.' He turns his head, to something that isn't really there but notes her sweet smile. "You have my word."

The weeks seem to pass by...

He was vaguely away when Tony would stop by, asking if everything was okay. Knew that in the back of his mind, he'd asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to keep an eye on him. Deep within his mind, he didn't even know if this was going to work. In his heart, somehow he knew that it would. Blueprints, constructs, mountain upon mountains of information pouring from his fingertips into something that would bring her back... to him.

He doesn't eat...

Has never need too. He doesn't sleep...

Unless she was with him, holding him close to her.

"I am going to bring you back to me."

It takes months...

For his plan to come into the light, for everyone to know what exactly he is doing. "He is playing God," he could hear the others whisper as he floated past, seemingly ignoring them. We all have our ways of dealing with grief. 'Vision, are you feeling okay?,' her words so soft, feels the ghosting touch of her once more and smiles. "I will be much better when you are here once more." They all believe him either crazy or shorting out... or both. The vision of Wanda in his mind just smiles, arms wrapping around his lengthy frame and pulling him to her. He mirrors the actions, breathing in the scent of her. Tony watches from a monitor in his own room. This isn't going to go well.

So many others had been a failure...

This one will not fail....

There is a small cloud of smoke that rises along with her body, a synthetic vibranium just like him. Those blue eyes, the gears whirling as fast as they will go. There was never a moment past this point for him; something would always go wrong. He didn't know if he would be able to attempt this again. "Wanda...," there was something so hopeful in his tone, in the way that he held his hands to the side, flexing them opened and closed. "Visssssssssion..." but as always, the body started to make uncharacteristic movements; circuits began to flicker and explode. The body falls backwards into the cloud of smoke from which it rose.  
There is just a brief moment, all the hope seems to fade from his eyes before he closes them.

Back to the drawing board...


	3. Love Is Overrated: prompt

Scotland, The Highlands:

"Tell me what I want to know," it wasn't really an accent that he was familiar with. Even if weight meant nothing to him, he could feel the slight pressure from the shackles that held him. How she had managed a way to capture him, let alone kept him was still a mystery to him. With his head lowered, his arms rose halfway up his torso, he remained slight. It was in the moment of defiance that a rather large screen seemed to appear from a crack in the floor. "Tell me or I shall take it out on all those you care for." The Vision lifted his head, the screen seemed to magically come to life. The Avengers tower; a scene of happiness and laughter for the moment. They hadn't been alerted of his missing yet. "I can not tell you something that even I myself do not understand." This seemed to anger the dark haired woman standing in front of him. A needle, popped from the ceiling, making it way toward the stone in his forehead. Eyes seemed to narrow at this but he made no move to escape. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as he felt the needle touch the stone, a million shockwaves going through him all at once, but still, he wouldn't speak.

"Well, if that won't work," her words trailing off as the needle is retracted and he lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Maybe we should move onto the heart of the manner." The image on the screen changed and he felt his eyes widen. Wanda; walking down the street, looking into some of the widows of the small Scottish town they were hiding in. "Don't..." A light struggle, the chains ratting against his movements. "I knew it." She was being followed, completely unaware that her life was in danger. "Love is so overrated but it can make so many men weak."

"You're wrong," his voice was a dangerous warning as he spoke but the needle was slowly moving back to the stone. "Love is one of the strongest emotions anyone can feel. From the lowest of forms to someone even such as myself. It is something meant to be protected, it's meant to be saved." The man following Wanda seemed to be closing in on her. "Well, if you don't tell me what I wish to know, you're love will not be long for this world anymore." It still confused him as to what she really wanted, all he knew was that she wanted the power that the stone held, but in order to get it; she would have to kill him. "Stop!" His voice rang out through the room. "I will tell you everything that I know."


	4. He can cry...

He feels her power flowing through him.

Kneeling in the dirt with arms outstretched almost as if he is welcoming the angels to take him home. It hurts, he feels pain like any man, and bless the gods it hurts. He can not scream, just gasp as he feels her open up more; the sheer strength of her power flowing against the stone. He knew that she could do it, but he also feels the sorrow; the sadness of what is coming to pass.

Vision feels it from beginning to end. The pain is soon replaced with nothing but the love that he has for the woman that must destroy him. For the woman that he must leave in this world alone.

That's when he feels it; a small wet drop flowing from the corner of his eye that slides slowly down his cheek. In that moment, realization hits him.

He is indeed human after all.


	5. chaotic.- prompt

"She's in Scotland," his hues seemed to never leave the note that had been left for him. The writing was choppy at best, written in the hand of none other then Captain America himself. To say that he had been worried about Wanda was an understatement. He didn't fully understand what had transpired on 'The Raft' whilst the others were imprisoned, but in the back of his mind, he knew it probably wasn't a good thing. The Vision sat on Tony's couch, a chess piece twirling between his red fingers. This wasn't the first time that he'd been found in this position; mulling things over with the processors in his head and trying to determine if his actions were a good thing or not.  
"Mr. Stark has informed me, that if you don't go, he is going to lock you out of the house. He further goes to say, there is only room for one brooding persona and yours is causing far too much imbalance," F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice filled the room and Vision couldn't help but chuckle softly.

The first time Vision had ever really tried out his more 'human' look, it startled him. The face looking into the mirror not his own but the eyes... they were his. The whole thing causing his body to riddle with a fear he'd never known before. What if she didn't wish to see him? What if she would send him away? What if...? Those two words seemed to filter in and out of his mind. Those two small words, causing him to pause in the middle of the street and stare at the cobstone. Here he was, Scotland; the cold whipping around his frame but he didn't feel the cold like normal people. What exactly was normal? Tony was able to pinpoint the apartment that she was staying in, was able to help him with having to turn his locators off and a simple way of having to turn them back on. It was the face that took some getting use too.

A lengthy frame carried two heavy feet up the flights of stairs to her door. Having not laid eyes on her for months, he didn't know if his arrival would be greeted with excitement or hate. A fleshy hand rose, he didn't even remember arriving at her door and knocked softly. Some soft sounds from inside the room, a few bolts being unlocked and it opened slightly; merely a crack so that she could peer outside.

"Can I help you?"

The accent was slightly off, probably something she did to mask who she really was; but the beauty, there was no mistaking it. He was staring, bless him, staring and not saying a word. He could see Wanda tilting her head before he shook his own. "I hope... I... I shouldn't have come." In the back of his mind, he knew this was a mistake.

"Vision?"

He stopped at the foot of the stairs, his hand had already made it to the rail. "I... yes..." He turned, showing a small, unsure smile on his lips. "I was alerted to your presence here by a mere written piece of paper. I... I know that you are here to heal and recover but I thought that maybe you might like a friend or maybe a bodyguard." He knew that sounded stupid in his head and he had no idea why he was stuttering.It caused her to chuckle, nonetheless.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Vis."

"Then perhaps, I might be able to help you find her again."


	6. Take Me Home: Endgame drabble

Moments of peace…

Things that are few and far between for a great many people. Two souls that had been brought together by sheer chance, that had been able to spend several glorious moments basking in the afterlife together, only to have her ripped from his arms once again. The glorious battle, the down fall of Thanos himself that so many of the fallen bared witness to; every time the clouds would part and the rays of sun shone through them, that’s when they got the chance to see the people that they loved taking a stand, for all of them. That’s when he got to witness the woman that he loved with the same passion of that burning sun, come into her own. To see the fierceness, it put a smile on his face. And then… it was gone.

“I think it’s time,” he rested a hand on the shoulder of a woman that was slightly shorter than himself. “He’s coming home.” She did nothing more than nod softly but for some odd reason, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the destruction that had been rained down on the Avengers compound. “Take comfort in the fact that he is alive, Natasha. Take comfort in the fact that he will remember the sacrifice. That he will not let your memory die.” She nodded once more before joining the man that spoke, standing with him and several others. A figure began to form in front of them, Vision tilting his head slightly before a small smile crossed his lips. Here, there was no pain, no more fighting, here one could be at peace with the world and themselves. “Welcome home, Mr. Stark.”

They say that spirits walk the Earth sometimes; sometimes when a person dies, it’s with such a great sadness that the spirit can’t rest. Sometimes, it’s true. Sometimes, it’s just so that that person can spend one lasting moment with the people that they love. To give them a small bit of comfort before they allow themselves to completely leave.

Longing, sadness, hope…  
They were all standing with the people that they loved, even if they themselves could not see. Vision was aware that Mantis’ antennae were twitching and he wondered something for a moment; her being an empath, was she soaking up the emotions of those around her, giving them feelings of comfort or could she feel the ones they’d lost, floating around for one last time.

He wasn’t Vision here. Here; he was Victor, a man that had earned not only his wings but also his human form. Even know, he understood why they couldn’t bring him back, but that didn’t make his heart not long to be there for her, to hold her in his arms and comfort her. He knows in his heart that her new family will take very good care of her and somehow, deep within his soul, he knows she feels him with her... in these last moments before they go home.

“I wish there was a way that could let her know… let her know we won.”

There was a sniffle behind them, the red head staring holes through the back of Clint’s head. “Let her know that we did it.”

His Wanda, she does nothing more than give a soft sad little smile. “She knows.” It’s hard not to catch the emotions in her voice but he does, and it breaks his heart all over again. “They both do.”

Someone clears their throat behind them all. Tony standing there with his arms clasped in front of him, soaking up the rays of an evening sun. “It’s time to go, kids.” They all seem to go toward him. Vision being the last one to actually find his feet to move. “I love you and I will see you again.”

There is a silver haired male that pats him gently on the shoulder before they all disappear for the last time.


	7. Being Free is Fleeting

He feels her energy coursing through his veins.

Feels it breaking apart the connections to not only the stone but also himself.

He feels her love even though she is hurting him, and gods does it hurt but he closes his eyes and lets it wash over him. Everything that she is, all the love that she has for him and before the end; when he feels himself getting closer to the edge, it’s when he allows himself to open his eyes and look at her.  
“I love you.”

And the feeling is gone. He’s free. Even as her energy courses through his veins, causing his body to implode and then explode, Vision is free.

Is this what death feels like? It felt warm; like a fresh blanket out of the dryer on a chilly morning. Or sipping on hot chocolate while sitting on the rooftop with someone that gives you butterflies on a winter eve, looking at the sunset. If this was truly what happened when you die, he would blask in this feeling for as long as it wished to overtake him. There is no pain here, no worry. No… that seems to be something that is left for the living. Here, there is only happiness and love. Yes, Vision figures that this is something he could learn to like, even if his heart if longing for the one he loves to be by his side.

Then there are cracks…

They start small and then all he can feel is the pain again. It feels like someone is slowly piecing him back together and stapling the pieces instead of using love. A soundless scream escapes him now and it’s all he can do to try and wield himself not to go. He’s cold. The warm feelings that he had experienced just mere seconds ago where fleeting and falling away. He’s afraid. He doesn’t want to leave this plane of warmth. He’s scared because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen once all the pieces of himself are painful put back together. Vision had decided his own fate and someone was changing the cards. He didn’t want to go back.

“Nooooo!”


End file.
